The 3rd Annual Hunger Games
by letitbe54
Summary: In the 3rd Hunger Games danger lurks behind every corner, and the tributes arn't chosen as randomly as you think. Alliances turn to love and love turns to hate as secrets crumble and fall. Happy Hunger Games, may the odds be ever in your favor
1. Reapings Of Chance

**Chapter One**

**Elise Dubois**

**District 1**

"Yori Rennings!"

The young girl who was called ran on stage, looking almost excited to have been picked. I remembered her from school; she was two years older than me and had ratty black hair that fell past her shoulders. She hadn't bothered to try and tame her wild mane of hair; instead she allowed it to stick out crazily.

I didn't really care who was picked, it didn't matter to me. Didn't affect me. I hardly even knew this girl, and it was my birthday, my twelfth to be exact, and the town square was the last place I would want to be on my birthday. But, by the Capitols standard I was 'of-age' for the Hunger Games and I had to be at the reaping for district 1.

The Hunger Games were still pretty mysterious for everyone in the district, even though they had been held for the past three years. They were the Capitol's way of punishing us for starting the rebellion. But it wasn't just District 1, it was everyone, all the Districts, even 11 which is just a pile of rubble now, still smoldering from the bombs the Capitol dropped on them. I was only nine when the rebellion ended and only six when it began. In my opinion the rebellion was a waste of time, and it stuck us with the Hunger Games, that although are slightly entertaining sometimes, are overall sadistic and disgusting.

Yori tossed her hair back and smiled as Wrighten, District 1's escort congratulated her, his oddly colored skin gleaming in the harsh sunlight.

"Meet your new female tribute from District 1, Yori Rennings!"

"I volunteer!" said a small voice coming from behind me. I turned around slightly, looking for the source of the sound and was taken aback by who I found. It was Blue Applegate.

I had known Blue for my entire life, and for a few years you could have qualified us as 'friends' but we were far from that now. She had betrayed my family when I needed her most, and now, because of her, my Mother is dead.

Blue ran up to the stage, grinning devilishly as she shook the mayor's hand. And then her eyes locked onto me, glaring with hate and demise. I didn't want to go to the Hunger Games but I didn't want Blue to go even more. I exhaled heavily, balled up all my courage and ran up to the stage.

"I volunteer as tribute," my voice didn't even tremble as I pushed Blue out of the way.

"No, I volunteered," said Blue. I attempted to push her off the stage but she dodged the attack and lunged for my neck. I grabbed both of her hands and pulled them behind her back at a painful angle. She screamed and tried to pull away but I held strong. Her knees buckled and I swung her off the stage. Her landing wasn't the best, and I thought I heard something crack. A few people ran up to her crumbled body and assisted her away. Yori, a smart girl, backed away from me and ran off the stage.

"It's a true honor to be District 1's tribute for the 3rd annual Hunger Games!"

My voice rang out in the square, followed by a steady silence. No one clapped. Not one single person.

I searched the crowd and spotted my Father, his blue eyes were stone cold, but as always, re assuring. He nodded once, which was all I needed, this was it. My time to shine.

**Jace Mitel **

**District 1**

When I woke up this morning I realized that I had forgotten. I had forgotten the hell of a life I had lived for the past year. I had forgotten Jewel. Oh, Jewel, my precious Jewel of only twelve. She died so young, and in so much vain too. It didn't matter how many times I tried to erase the memory of her crumpled little body with a spear right through her heart from my brain, it stuck. It ate away, through the brain tissue, through all the memories, all the happiness, living only the thought of revenge in its path.

In all reality, I had gotten a lot better. The nightmares had stopped, her death didn't play in my head every waking second, her name was just a memory. The pain was still there, but it was leaving, slowly but surely. But that's just the thing; I didn't really want it to. Yea, sure, I didn't want to remember my little sister dying, but it was all I had left of her. I didn't want it, but I needed it. Memories faded, but that one didn't.

Her memory was pushing me forward every day, but so was revenge. What a sweet word – revenge. I've wanted revenge ever since the day Jewel died. In some ways I got it, the girl who killed Jewel was slaughtered to death by the biggest axe I had ever seen only hours after she threw that spear. I should have been happy, right? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. But I wasn't. District 12 had to pay for killing my sister. I would kill both tributes from 12 myself. They wouldn't even have a chance.

"Get ready to go Jace, the reaping's in ten minutes," my Mother said from downstairs. She knew what I was planning to do, but she wouldn't stop me. Sylvia Mitel had been as weak as a bird with a broken wing since Jewel was reaped, and then killed. She barely even talks, and when she does it always has a sort of underlying insanity to it, as if she is about to go crazy any moment.

I shaved quickly, combed my dark hair back smoothly and pulled on a pair of black trousers. A white button-up completed my festive wear; I was ready for the reaping.

"Welcome everyone to the 3rd annual Hunger Games! We hope this will be the best year yet!"

The mayor of District 1, Odiane, wasn't even from District 1 at all. She came straight from the capitol, as did District 1's escort, both of which were babbling on about how proud they were to be representing District 1. But they weren't really. They weren't proud and they wouldn't really be representing District 1 at all. The tributes were, and unlike the capitol drones the tributes weren't, and will not be willing. Well, most of them won't be.

A long speech from the mayor was all my ears heard, as the square was quiet enough to hear a pin drop from a mile away. People were scared, and nerves were palpable in the air. My decision was made, but that didn't make me any less nervous. Every breath that I took seemed to fill my lungs only half way, leaving me gasping for air that was unreachable. Fear made me sweat and shake like a madman. And then Jewel came to my mind, beautiful little Jewel. She would want me to do this, to avenge her death. Or would she? Jewel had never been one for violence, but this was different. Jewel was dead and she wasn't coming back, ever. Who else would do this for her? Mom and Dad? Too old. Her friends? Too cowardly. Mitchell or Lance? They were good friends of mine, but they wouldn't do anything like this, not even for Jewel. Jewel deserves this, and, if I do die then maybe I will see Jewel again. Maybe she'll forgive me for doing this.

"And now District 1's escort Mr. Wrighten Toraz will chose the male tribute from the bowl," said Odiane gesturing to what appeared to be an over-sized fish bowl filled with little strips of paper.

Wrighten smiled and plucked out a slip of paper. "Calixto Calisto," he said loudly. The crowd turned around as a shaggy looking boy with a mop of red hair slowly walked toward the stage. He was weeping quietly and his hands were shaking.

"What an odd name you have Calixto Calisto, is it from someone in your family?" Wrighten asked the crying boy.

Just as he was about to answer I stepped out into the middle of the walkway. People looked at me with questioning gazes, but I kept my eyes set on the stage ahead of me. I shed all of the worry, and the fear, and the nerves, and replaced them with a calm stature, that would hopefully make the rest of Panem think twice about me.

"I volunteer."

Wrighten's dyed eyebrows shot up into his hairline, his face a mask of surprise. He had been here for the other reaping's, and no one had ever volunteered as tribute. Being a tribute was a curse, no one asked for it. Jewel didn't ask for it, which is why I am.

"Well, come here boy," said the flashy escort as he gestured to the now empty space beside him. Calixto had raced off the stage the second I said 'volunteer'. "What's your name?"

"Jace Mitel and I'm 16 years old. I am truly proud to serve as your male tribute for the 3rd annual Hunger Games."

The mayor smiled, her plastic face wrinkling slightly. While Wrighten prepared to choose the female tribute Odiane came up behind me and whispered something in my ear that I would have never in a million years expected to come from her lips.

"You are a stupid boy, Jace Mitel."

**Shine Lovatel**

**District 2**

Mom always told me that I would do something important in my life. She said I would do something that would benefit other people, and something that would benefit society as a whole. When she died I took that dream of doing something with my life out of the equation. There wasn't enough room in it. I had Givane to care for, and I had a new step-mother (who I hated and still hate) and I had a crazy father who still loved his first wife but still wanted someone to love. My life became a wreck when my mother left me, and for a year I lived in complete and utter pain. And then, when Givane was only a year old, the revolution ended and the Hunger Games were created.

The Hunger Games became a sort of idol in my eyes, one that I couldn't forget. The Hunger Games consumed my life, and in some ways my father's as well. He works at District 2's armory and he helped me train, and prepare for when I would volunteer for the Hunger Games myself. I pushed my boundaries and learned how to kill without even blinking. Knives quickly became my favorite weapon, along with swords. I mastered it all, and then some. I dropped out of school so I could spend more time training for the games. I had planned to volunteer when I was 18, but my father said I was ready just a few weeks ago.

Every day I think about what my mother told me, and how she wanted me to help people, and help society. But fame and fortune don't come from helping people in this day and age, it comes from killing people. If my Mother had wanted me to do something else then she would have stayed, she wouldn't have left me and Givane. I loved my Mother so much, but really she was just a weak coward who didn't fight hard enough for her own life. She allowed death to take her without even a second thought about me, or her husband or the baby she was delivering. She was selfish, and she split a family apart.

A family that used to be perfect.

It's an hour before the reaping even begins, but I'm already dressed and out of the house. That's how I begin every day, I get up and leave before my step-mother, Jolina, wakes up. My Father and Jolina met at my Mother's funeral. Jolina had been ogling my father since the day he married mother, and she was waiting to pounce. She sympathized with him, but I knew she meant none of what she said. She wanted Father's money and his good looks, she didn't care about his children, or his misery over losing his spouse.

I kicked a stone with my foot and watched as it flew over the chain-link fence and into the woods. The woods. I had never been in them, no one was allowed, and no one went. The fence that separated District 2 and the far beyond were extremely tall and it was constantly flowing with electricity. You didn't go into the woods unless you wanted to die.

I sat down on the hill close to the fence and listened to the buzz of the electric currents. It was peaceful up here. You couldn't hear the chatter of voices or the cranks of heavy machinery, just that little buzz and soft breathing and Givane talking.

Wait, Givane talking? No one ever came up here, especially not my sister.

Sure enough my four year old sister was running up the steep hill overlooking the District, my friend Gitena in tow.

"Sissy!" Givane cried as she ran up to me. I scooped her up into my arms and swung her around in a circle, careful to avoid the fence.

"What are you doing up here Givane ?" I asked her as I put her down.

"Well, since you're leaving today I just wanted to tell you that you need to be careful," she said seriously. I smiled weakly. I didn't want to leave Givane, but I had to.

'Ok, I promise I will be careful and that I will come home, so we can live in a great big house with huge windows and a beautiful room on the top floor, just for you."

Givane smiled at that but then it faded, "most people don't come home, Sissy. Why do you even have to go to the games? I don't like the games Sissy, I don't like them one bit."

"I know you don't, but I've worked very hard and this is a good opportunity. I'll only be gone for a little while Gigi, and then we can do whatever you want, ok?"

She nodded, her blonde curls bobbing up and down. "I do want to give you this though," she said pulling a little box out of her pocket and handing it to me.

I opened it slowly and what I saw surprised me. It was a small yellow bead with a nightingale on it. In the birds beak was a small pink rose. Givane wore it every day around her neck on a thin gold chain.

"You can't give this to me Givane; it's from your favorite necklace."

"You'll be back soon, and then you can give it back to me," she said with an air of newfound confidence, "since you will be coming home. She pointed at the little pink rose on the bead and gestured at the rose in my hair, "you match!"

"I guess we do Givane," I gave her a sweet smile.

I then directed my attention to Gitena, whose eyes were swollen and red from crying. She gave me a quick hug and told me to be brave, and to never give up.

"I won't, I promise."

"I know you won't Shine, I have so much hope in you. You would never leave us without good reason. I understand that you have to do this."

"That doesn't keep you from crying, does it?"

She laughed, "No, it does not. This is still very dangerous, and like Givane said you need to be careful. You never know whose competing."

"I know, just watch over her for me, will you?" I said, gesturing over to Givane who had a lolli-pop in her mouth and was picking wild flowers.

Gitena nodded weakly and crossed her heart with her right pointer finger. "I promise I will."

"I'll miss you, but I'll come back. There's no way some idiots from district 9 are defeating me."

Gitena smiled at the joke. District 9 had come in last place the year before, both tributes being killed in the first ten minutes of the game. Apparently farming wheat didn't really help when it came to killing other people.

"Come on Shine, let's go to the reaping, wouldn't want to be late."

**Pace Rickens **

**District 2**

Life is worth so little. Every day, every hour every minute, so minute in the grand scheme of things. So what matters? Victory? Yes. Family? When I need them. Love? Hardly. Winning, in my mind is what matters. It doesn't matter what it takes to get there, doesn't matter who I hurt to get there, all that matters is that I win. The Capitol might as well have made the Hunger Games just for me because they knew I'd win, and win I shall.

**Adrianna Moon**

**District 3**

Rae grabbed my hand and gave it a tight squeeze. She knew this was the end. I looked over at her and saw a tear sliding down her face. "Be strong," she said and released my hand.

"Ah, yes, you must be Adrianna Moon, please come here dear."

District 3's escort motioned for me to come onto the stage that was located in the middle of the town's square. The escort, who's name I had no idea (I never had paid much attention to the reaping's before) congratulated me, and then asked for volunteers.

The crowd fell silent. No one was going to take my place.

The shock hadn't set in, but I knew it would. Getting chosen for the Hunger Games wasn't a casual thing; you might as well have picked out your own coffin.

**Earlier That Day**

For the first time in almost a year I was awoken by my dad. Usually my mother woke me up, but I knew that mother was too worried on a day like this to do much of anything. Today was the reaping for the Hunger Games. One boy and one girl would be chosen to compete in the games, where they would be forced to fight to the death on live television. It is only 3rd Hunger Games, so people are still adjusting to the thought, though I think people are going to be adjusting to the thought of their children being sent to the capitol, and then being killed for quite some time. It's not much of a small change.

"Wake up my lovely Rianna," my father said as he opened up the blinds in my room. My eyes adjusted to the sudden light painfully and I turned my head the other way.

"Come on, sweetheart, you need to get ready," Father said sweetly.

I did as I was told and put on my nicest dress. Sure, today wasn't one for celebrating but I always liked an excuse to wear the strappy summer dress.

"The reaping's in an hour, we'll meet you there," Father said as he shut the door and left leaving me alone once again.

Today was the day, the 3rd reaping in Panem. It seemed like only yesterday people were rebelling and fights were breaking out in the streets. They told us that everything was in order now, but what does killing children have to do with order?

**Aden Thomas Lenders**

**District 3**

Chaos is a result of not listening. Not listening and not obeying the law. Chaos cost me my family, and everything I've ever known. Every memory, every thought, everything was centered on my family. So what happens when it's all yanked away, when everything is thrown away without a second thought from the murders sodden brain? You might think more chaos, heck, that would be my answer, but in this case it wasn't. My parents and siblings deaths were enough to calm down the district, and make them think more about their actions, and what they wanted. Those deaths were enough to end the rebellion in district 3 completely; something that I never thought could be done, especially not so quickly.

But every action has one, or multiple, reactions. The reaction of the rebellion ending was the Capitol's punishment, the Hunger Games. I had never dreamt that one day the Capitol would be so blood thirsty and ruthless that they would send children, mere children, to their own deathbed. I had also never dreamt that I would be a part of it, but alas here I am, ready to board a train bound for the Capitol, practically another world in my mind.

I hold myself well as the mayor and escort congratulate me and ask the crowd to leave. There's no need to cry now. Why should I? When I die I'll be with my family again, happy and free. The chains that kept me in this retched district can't keep me here much longer. No one will miss me; I'm not much to miss. Such a scrawny boy I am, with unkempt hair the color of sunburnt sand and eyes as green as clover. Never had a girl in my life, but Mother always said I would find one, one that was special, but I guess I really wouldn't. Too late now. Maybe there's good looking girls in heaven. But, with my luck they'll probably all look like Capitol drones.

They push me into a room about twice the size of my bedroom at home. Fine clothes are draped over pricey furniture; all shipped here from District 1 no doubt. I glance up at the chandelier overhead. Crystals of glass as sharp as the fangs of a cobra hang down with only a little strip of metal keeping them up. So little, but so important. It reminded me of a person I once knew, so small but so important. So prominent in my life, everything belonged to that person in my eyes. Everything.

"Aden, come with me," said the stiff Capitol escort, "the train is ready to board."

**Thanks again to everyone who submitted! I'm so sorry for the extremely long wait, been soo busy lately with school and everything. I know it's short but the next chapter will include more characters AND it will be longer (: hope you liked it! Please review and tell me if you have any ideas, writer's blocks are not uncommon for me**


	2. A Long Way From Home

**Chapter 2**

**Ariana Oakbloom**

**District 4**

I was running that I was sure of. My bare feet padded across the rough ground quickly, making great strides through the wooded area. I couldn't remember why I was running, or why I was here in the first place, but something inside me told me to keep going. Fear shot through my veins like ice when I heard someone behind me. I tried to run faster but my legs felt like rubber, and demanded rest. I slowed down and glanced over my shoulder. Behind me was Xexi Daslin, the winner of the 2nd Hunger Games. Xexi was from District 2 and I had seen her in person a few weeks ago when she come to District 4 on the victory tour. I stopped completely and gripped the knife that had appeared in my hand. She raised her sword, but I was one step ahead of her and sunk the knife deep into her chest, just under her heart. She laughed manically and shoved the hilt of the sword into my stomach. And then _Sayer?_

I blinked rapidly and ran my hand over my stomach under the covers. No sword, no knife, just skin. I looked up at Sayer, my fellow tribute, and lifelong friend. His chocolate brown eyes scanned me frantically but he didn't say a word. I smiled at him and rolled out of the bed, and for a moment, looking at Sayer, I forgot all about the Hunger Games. I forgot all about the death, and the weapons, and the blood. Sayer reminded me so much of home that it hurt.

"We aren't home anymore, Sayer," I muttered, barely audible.

"What'd you say?" Sayer asked grabbing my arm, preventing me from leaving the tiny bedroom.

"Nothing, it's nothing. Let's go eat," I said running a hand through my frizzy brown hair.

"Did you have a nightmare," he asked randomly.

I turned around again so I could see his eyes, "yea, but it wasn't too bad."

"I think it was I heard you screaming from down the hall."

"It was about Xexi and the games."

He didn't say anything, just grabbed my hand and lead me into the dining room where breakfast was already ready. We sat down together, side-by-side facing our Capitol escort and mentor.

In the ideal, capitol-styled world all the districts would have a mentor from their own district. But since there's only been two Hunger Games, both won by District 2, most of the districts have been left with a capitol mentor.

I wish they hadn't given us an escort at all, we know more about surviving then Alcide does. With his plastic face and painted eyebrows he wouldn't last one day in the arena, though he thinks different. He has an arrogant air to him, as if he really had won a Hunger Games but no one had seen him do it.

"It's nice for you to finally join us," said the stiff escort, Floy.

"Sorry, I was a bit tired after yesterday," my voice came out flat.

"Of course you would be, dear. You need your sleep, the big day is only a few days away!" the paunchy mentor said as he spooned a mouthful of quail eggs into his rather large mouth.

I nodded and looked down at my breakfast. It looked like some kind of melted jelly topped with fruit and pink cream. I caught Sayer's eye and he nodded approvingly at the dish.

"It's good, better than anything I've ever eaten, much better than fish," he smiled at me as he reached across the table to grab the orange juice.

I took a bite, and surprisingly the weird dish was delicious. As Sayer said, much better then fish.

**Sayer Placido**

**District 4**

After breakfast Alcide pulled Ariana and I aside to talk about our 'special talents', and how he would 'attempt to use them to help us'. I worked with my father on the fishing boat, but that was about it, and, like every other kid in the district I could swim like a fish, but what were the chances they would make the arena mostly water? Last year it was a rain forest, and the only way the tributes could survive was to collect rain water because there wasn't a river or even a stream. I shuddered at the thought and hoped that there would be _some_ type of water in the arena.

"Now I know you can both swim, but what else can you do?" asked Alcide.

Neither one of us said anything, just stared at the overweight man waiting for him to dismiss us so we could savor our last few days.

"Oh, you don't want to give away your strengths to your opponent, understood. I will talk to you both individually at the training center apartments. Good day young children and happy Hunger Games!"

The capitol mentor waddled away, no doubt back to his cabin where he, as Foy puts it, 'drinks his worries away'.

This appalled Ariana and I, since in District 4 drinking any form of alcohol was not illegal but strongly discouraged by the peacekeepers.

Ariana looked at me then at the floor. "You probably already know everything that I'm good at, I've known you my whole life. I wasn't trying to hide them, that guy just creeps me out," she smiled at me.

I laughed, "He creeps me out too, who knew you could do that to your eyebrows?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking!" she said with a gleaming smile.

Suddenly Ariana stopped laughing; her smiled faded until she was wearing a straight frown. She walked over to the window, and peered out through the thick glass. The landscape consisted of tall trees and rolling hills, all covered in thick green vegetation. It was truly breathtaking.

"Last night, when we were watching some of the other districts reaping's I realized something."

"What?" I asked puzzled.

"We don't have a chance."

**Cherry Mae Brooks**

**District 5**

Summersin Distrcit 5 are hot and dry. Sand seems to cover every inch of the District. When I was little I always imagined the sand burying me alive, the little grains digging into my eye sockets and pulling me into their cool embrace. They became nightmares that I couldn't run way from and for a whole summer I wouldn't even go outside, too afraid that the sand would get me.

They say summers in the Capitol are cooler, since it's on a mountain, but how many people from District 5 have even gone to the Capitol anyway. Either way I hope they are. I'm sick of the heat. And the sand.

The train I'm riding has air conditioning, which isn't surprising. Any and all relations I've had with the Capitol and their possession has been first-class, and nothing less.

My tribute partner is huge, and much older than me. He seems kind enough but I try to stay away from him. I don't want to make too many alliances with people, since in the end they'll all be dead.

They say we'll be at the Capitol soon, but I wish they wouldn't remind me. I enjoy forgetting about the Hunger Games, who wouldn't? **  
><strong>Before I left my grandmother, my guardian, told me to stay strong and to not forget who I am, but how am I supposed to stay strong and "not forget who I am," when to survive I must kill people? At the time I had just told her 'I will,' and 'yes ma'am,' but I should have said something more. I should have told her that I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried I wouldn't be able to. But I told her I would, so I would for her, if I could. Maybe I wouldn't have to kill anyone. Maybe I wouldn't have to make a mother weep and a father cry. But I probably would.

I tap my head against the trains' window as I rewind District 5's reaping again. Surprisingly I didn't cry, though my face looked like I had eaten something bitter, which I might as well have. Joy and Brendan cried, snot nose crying when you can't catch your breath. My little trooper Zaynn only let a few tears fall before he realized what he was doing and stood tall. He would be running the family now, Grandmother's too old.

I popped a cherry in my mouth and savored the taste as I watched Kylar, the male tribute walk to the stage. He wore a too-small brown suit that looked cheaply made. I don't think Kylar comes from the rich part of the district; then again maybe that's just his style.  
>I ate another cherry, trying to gain some weight before the Games. I had always tried to keep myself super lean, but now I needed a few extra pounds so I don't starve. 96.4 is tiny, even for a 13 year old girl.<p>

**Kylar Tandon Drake**

**District 5**

For three years I've trained for this. Ready for the games, ready to kill. But I didn't want to; I never wanted to be a tribute in the Hunger Games.

My dad told me to be a man and volunteer this year. He said I could make it, he said I could win, and I believed him. But I've seen the other reaping's, and I've seen the other tributes and there's no way I'm going to win. District 2's tributes look like ruthless killers and District 1's male tribute looks just as scary. But I'm not a coward and I won't come off as afraid. If I win, I win, if I don't then my father will have to live with my death on his shoulder for the rest of his life, and that's that.

The girl tribute from 5 is small, only 13 and she was reaped. She reminded me of Bree, when she was younger, when I first saw her. But now I notice that she's much shyer and reserved then Bree.

She also seems angry, which I suppose is understandable with these circumstances. I'm not mad, not even confused just ready. I wish we were at the Capitol now. This stupid train ride is taking forever. I just want this whole thing to be over with.

District 5's escourt said that the Capitol was working on trains that went even faster. She said that in fifty years they'd be going three times as fast.

As I look out the window now, I find that statement hard to believe. The trains going so fast I can't even concentrate on one thing before he zooms past. Back in District 5 there were no cars, or trains, or even elevators. Some say there used to be, but ever since the uprising the Capitol took everything that made life that much easier. I wonder if they'll ever give the stuff back. Probably not.

They say it'll only be a few more nights on this train, I hope they're right. Sure, I'm living in the lap of luxury but every minute on this thing makes me more anxious.

The train has all the amenities one would need, and then some. The showers have six nozzles and a board full of buttons, the closets are filled with exquisite clothing, fit for a king, and the food is served hot and steaming. As I was trifling through my new wardrobe I couldn't help but think about Bree again. Bree had always been obsessed with clothes, and I'm sure if she had been chosen as tribute she would have been thoroughly impressed with the selection. Thank the heavens she wasn't picked, I might be able to survive a couple of days but Bree wouldn't survive a couple minutes. Bree was never trainedto be a tribute like I was, she was too small and delicate. Everyone knew she wouldn't make it if she was picked, so why even try to train her?

I chose a pair of dark grey pants and a matching shirt. Both fit perfectly, which was slightly odd since I haven't been a tribute very long. I guess I need to learn to never underestimate the Capitol.

I looked out the window of my room at the sun rising over the tall trees. It's colors were vibrant and reminded me of the fires that never seemed to end during the war. _The war. _Oh, what an awful thing that had been. So many dead, it's a wonder anyone's still here to reap.

**Felicity Cotton**

**District 6**

"And our brave female tribute will be….Felicity Cotton! Congratulations my dear girl, you're going to the 3rd annual Hunger Games!"

My heart cracked, my eyes fogged, my limbs fell numb, and my lips wouldn't move. They wouldn't move to say something, anything. Looking back I should have said something. I should have told them that this whole thing wasn't fair. The Capitol wasn't fair. Panem wasn't fair.

But I just picked myself up and went to the platform, head low, eyes almost shut with tears. As I passed someone told me to stop crying, that everything would be alright. I didn't even bother looking up, because everything wouldn't be alright. I was reaped to be in the Hunger Games, and I would die, hopefully painlessly and fast.

I wasn't even supposed to be chosen, as I am only eleven years old. But District 6, the maker of Panem's transportation, was short on twelve year olds so a handful of eleven-year-olds were added to the bunch. And, of course, I was chosen.

There wasn't a soul to volunteer for me, Mia, my older sister, is one year the Hunger Games max age. I wouldn't want her to volunteer for me anyway, she could live without me, she has a job, but I couldn't live without her. See my parents were killed in the revolution, leaving Mia and I to fend for ourselves.

I'm not angered over my present situation, only saddened by the fact that I would never see my sister again. Hopefully where ever I'm going after this whole thing will be where my parents are.

The train is impressive, though I've seen its model and make more than a hundred times in the factories that make up 6. Mia even works in one; she screws the headlights on all the trains. It's not the highest paying job, but it gets us through. Now that I'm gone she'll be able to spend some more money on herself, maybe she'll even go out on a date with that boy across the street like I've been telling her to.

I hope she doesn't cry too much. She cried in the justice building before I left, but I told her to stop and she did. I told her to concentrate on the good times we had together, and not what she sees on the screen. She told me that she didn't want to lose me, that I was all she had left.

I told her that wasn't true.

She had so much left, so much she had built for herself.

"Felicity, Krish! Breakfast!"

The Capitols' escort for District 6 yelled from outside my cabin. His name was Rance, and he had strange tattoos on his shaved head. His clothes were dreadfully tacky and his breath smelled like rotting fish. He was absolutely repulsive.

I followed Krishtan into the dining area and sat down next to him.

**Krishtan "Krish" Melney**

**District 6**

When I was reaped, I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad. All my emotions had turned to straight fear. I was scared beyond anything else. Fearful of leaving 6, the only home I've ever known, fearful of leaving my family, my friends, fearful of never seeing them again. Something that I know deep down is uneventful.

There are people in the Hunger Games who will crush me like a pulp. True, many tributes will be wary to kill anyone at all, there's only been two other games after all, but once their own life goes on the line they will kill. I've seen it happen.

Just last year a girl who in her interview swore she would never kill knocked out three people with a club within the first ten minutes. The games change people, if you want to be changed or not.

**Harmony Allen**

**District 7**

The streets of 7 are still in tatters. The Capitol hasn't come around to clean up their mess that they've left behind. The rebellion tore through our town, a hot demon with tongues of fire burning all the wood we had left. I was 15 when the rebellion ended, 17 now, and I clearly remember when they started the Hunger Games.

The president, President Wilkie, spoke first about the Hunger Games on live TV. The Treaty of Treason had just been signed and many were in mourning over the dead.

"I now decree on the same day each year, the various districts will offer up in tribute one brave young man and one brave young woman to fight in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice – The Hunger Games. The twenty-four tributes will be sent to an outdoor arena, where they will struggle to overcome both man and nature, and triumph over the odds. Each year, the lone victor will serve as a reminder of the nation's generosity and forgiveness. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

That year, the first year, I knew both tributes. Both died quickly, there was little wood and not one axe in the cornucopia. They didn't stand a chance.

I know I won't either. I can aim, and run pretty fast, but I can't make fires or friends . I've given up on winning, especially after I saw the video tapes for the other district reapings.

Noah, from my own district, will be a major player. He's 17 as well, but much bigger and taller. He hasn't uttered a word, but I doubt he would have much trouble taking off my head in the arena. Anyone would.

And then there's the huge boy from 2. The dark haired boy from 8 with silver eyes. The extremely pale, and stone faced girl from 9. Her face flashed behind my closed eyes, and I realized something.

That girl, her name had escaped me, had been on the TV during the rebellion. I had seen her face before. She had done something, tricked the capitol, and broke the dam. That's what she did! A few years before the rebellion had ended the girl had somehow gotten the dam to break in 9, her home district apparently, which flooded the fields, and led on to starvation in the capitol. I wondered, momentarily, if it was so random that the girl had been chosen.

These tributes were strong, and tough. I wasn't trained to do this, and I certainly didn't do anything as impressive as destroying a capitol-made dam.

Outside the train the dark world whirrs by. I had already bathed and dressed in a floor-length purple dress that I think is a nightgown. I suppose I should be asleep, but I couldn't fall asleep if my life depended on it. There were only a few hours left on the train before the capitol would come into view. We would be ushered into the training center where we would be fattened for the slaughter.

Though I was mocking the training center, I needed it. I needed to train for those few, precious days. I needed to show the gamemakers what I got, and pray that they don't count me out of this thing. But they will, because competition is high in the Hunger Games.

**Noah James  
>District 7<strong>

My body is so rigid and cold I can barely move it from the cotton-covered cot in my bunker. I'm a prisoner of my own emotions in this false paradise, which, when the lemon and rose induced haze is pushed away, is as much of a prison as I'm a tribute.

I should be eating and training, getting ready for the big games. But I can't. I physically can't move. Flashes of my family, my friends, and worst of all past tributes, run across my mind. Fear pulses through my heart as I think of past games. The first had been much worse than the second. The capitol had been more…controlled in the second. The first Hunger Games was so bloody it only lasted two days and most of the tributes were killed by mutts, or other capitol inventions. You could almost feel their anger as another cannon blew, the capitol was punishing us by killing the young.

I was the young, ready to die.

I looked up at the celling of the train. This celling had only seen two other people, the two past tributes from 7. Both of them were killed fairly quickly. I wonder if they ever thought they had a chance. Thought they could make it home and enjoy the riches brought by their victory.

But they weren't smart enough, agile enough, and bold enough to win the crown. And neither am I.

I only have a short period of time left on the train, and I notice this when I glance at the clock. We would be at the capitol by sunrise and it's 2'oclock. I wonder if Harmony's sleeping.

I know I'm not, my eyelids feel like sandpaper, unable to fall over my drying eyes.

Somehow I pull my aching body out of bed and into the shower, which I turn on cold. The water rushes over my skin like an icy waterfall, awakening my senses even more.

A single tear falls and quickly gets drowned out in the water. _It's too late to cry_ I tell myself. _If you had wanted to cry you should have done it a while ago. It's time to grow up and face the facts. _

_ Life isn't all it's cracked up to be._

**Patience Wilkes**

**District 8**

"Patience, be patient! Wait for it to come to you, not the other way around."

My father's voice is so clear as I remember that day in my mind. The day he tried to teach me how to hunt. It was during the Dark Days, and the fences were always down, practically inviting people into the woods. He was trying to teach me how to use a crossbow, but I wouldn't wait for the right moment to shoot the bird, so I missed every time. He never did teach me how to use that old crossbow. It was his; he used it during the rebellion. But, in the end it wasn't enough to keep the capitol soldiers away. Only a few years after that day three capitol soldiers came into my house and shot my father right in front of me. He died in my mother's arms.

But I'm glad he wasn't there to see me get reaped. I'm glad he didn't see me cry and hold onto my mother like a child. I'm glad he won't see me die on TV.

I won't win.

I'm too weak and fragile, barely a wisp of a girl. Maybe I can get a little meat on my bones before the games, but right now I'm too nervous to eat.

I'll see the capitol in only a few minutes. I'm ready to leave the train which feels hot and sticky.

My fingers skim across the bracelet from Hope, my sister. She had been in tears when I was reaped, but was sure I would come back home. I wish I was.

Osiris, the other tribute from 8, might win. He's my age, 16, and he's quite big with night black hair and icy eyes. I've never seen him before but he acts like he knows me. I try to stay away from him, even if he would be a good ally. I don't want to get too close to anyone, since there's only one victor in the games.

"We're here," says Juliet, my mentor. She seems nice enough, though she knows very little about the Hunger Games at all. She's just a capitol 'helper', here to teach me how to smile.

Osiris moves to the window, inspecting the outside world. He smiles at the adoring capitol fans, waving at a few. I try to do the same thing, with the same amount of charm, but it's impossible.

I glance over at Osiris. He's very handsome, with a chiseled face and toned muscles. He will get plenty of sponsors in the games, maybe even a good ally.

I open up my mouth to say something, but then shut it back. This isn't the time or place.

**Osiris Gage**

**District 8**

The capitol is much more impressive in person. Huge screens broadcast the other tributes faces and crowds of fans encircle the train. The doors open and guards usher Patience and I off. People throw flowers and kisses at us, hoping to catch our eyes. I wave and smile, hoping I will get me a few sponsors in the long run. Patience keeps her head down, arms at her sides. I nudge her a bit and tell her to wave if she wants sponsors. She looks up at me and I wink once before I continue to greet the capitol. She doesn't join in, though a hint of a smile has slipped onto her lips. I nudge her again and she waves at a few people. They wave back enthusiastically, and someone throws her a lily. She laughs and waves in their general direction.

I take a break from waving and look over the crowds for the training center, which should be near.

"Over there!" says Patience, pointing at a tall blue building with the words 'TRAINING CENTER,' in bright red on the top.

Our guards push through the crowds and soon enough we are in the posh building awaiting an elevator. The fans apparently are prohibited to enter as it's only the guards, Patience and I waiting. Our mentors and escort have proved themselves useless, so don't even bother asking the guards where they are. Hopefully the trainers will be more…helpful.

**Finally in the capitol! I wanted to speed it up a little bit, and the reaping's are about the same anyway. But, if your character gets in the final 8 then I will do a sort of flashback to some of the moments I skipped. I changed a few things to make things a bit more interesting, my apologizes if they offend anyone. Suzane Collins pwns all and I don't own a thing :( **

** Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor! **


	3. Chariot Dreams And Nightmares

**Chapter 3**

**Adelittia Medley**

**District 9**

_"Get out, run, NOW! Before it's too late!"_

_ "I'm not leaving you, not like this!"_

_ "There's still time for you, Littia! Run!"_

_ I finally followed her command and ran out of the burning house, just before it collapsed in on itself. Another bomb hit, maybe a mile away, and it sent ripples through the ground. I took off toward the woods, wondering if I'd ever see this town again._

I didn't. I never saw that town again, and I was glad because no one else survived in that little town. No one but me.

But it was just a dream. I had taken a quick nap, preparing for the opening ceremonies tonight. I sat up in my bed, looking around the futuristic room.

The walls were painted a deep plum color and all the furniture looked like it had been dipped in a horrid yellow plastic. A massive silver chandelier hung from the ceiling, suspended only by a sliver of metal. The bathroom was magnificent, all very modern stainless steel appliances, complete with turquoise detailing and a big white rug. Everything was expensive, and nice and beautiful and _capitol_. It made me want to puke.

I had spent years in the capitol, way too many for my liking, and for a while I was accustomed to this sort of lavish treatment. And then they sent me to 9, where I learned how real people lived, and raised a family, and loved each other.

The capitol had made me _plastic _but 9 pulled me back to my roots.

I slowly got up, changed, and went out to the main room, where Calix was waiting.

"Morning, sleepy head," said Calix, a sly grin on his face. So far, Calix had been…talkative. And abrupt. And sometimes downright rude, but, at the end of the day he seems rather kind, even if he does flirt with every girl within a 50 ft. radius. Even the audacious capitol women.

I simply nodded and smiled at him, hoping to not spike his anger, which he has little control over.

"Ready to go?" I asked him as I looked around for our escort and mentor.

He caught my questioning gaze, "Greita and Zane already left, said they wanted to meet with some sponsors. Zane says you know this place, you've been here before?"

_How would Zane know? _I thought. Our egotistical mentor seemed to care little about me, how would he know about my past? _Think of an excuse!_

"Yea, during the rebellion they took me, but only for a couple days. It wasn't much fun," I said lamely.

"Well, it's not much fun now either. I'm sorry you had to go through that during the rebellion; I know the dam was an accident. They shouldn't have taken you to the capitol, did they torture you?"

_Accident? It most certainly wasn't an accident, but a defiant act against the capitol. Where would he get 'accident' from?_

"No, they just wanted to know what happened. It was an accident," I lied, it looks better if it was an accident, "how did you know?"

"They told us, the capitol. Once they took you they came to 9 and told us you accidently destroyed it. It was an old thing any way, looked like it could have collapsed in the wind, don't you think?"

"Yea, I barely even remember it, I was a lot younger."

He stood up, "Let's head out and go find Greita, she'll be glad we finally bathed."

I laughed and followed him out to the elevator. Nine floors down, and into the main room we run into Greita, who ushers us away.

"Zane is already picking up sponsors for you two, you should be so grateful! You might even have a chance!"

I shake my head, even though I know she means well. Her ignorance isn't a surprise; most people in the capitol are either dumb or cunning. Zane's cunning. I turn around to see him, along with a few other capitolites, discussing plans. He catches my glare and he smiles a devilish grin. I quickly turn back around, not wanting to see his awful stare for another moment. Something about him is off…and for the first time in my life I don't want to know what.

**Calix Torento**

**District 9**

I wish she would pay attention to me. She's barely given me the time of day, and I've said every charming thing that I have in my arsenal! She's from 9, just like me, but I've only seen her a handful of times. She's gorgeous, dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, perfect pale skin, and a body that hasn't been racked by starvation like the rest of the district. I know she's 16, a year younger than me, from my friends in the district. She's very mysterious, no family what so ever, but a nice house to call her own. Some say her parents were from the capitol and were killed in the rebellion, so she was sent to live here, since no orphans live in the capitol. Others say she's been here her whole life and has lived off of what others gave her because of her beauty.

I think she's a girl, who's meant to be a queen, but never got the opportunity to rule her kingdom. Too early was she abandoned by her family, left to rot in miles of wheat and grain. A whisper in the wind of a time when beauty had not yet been calloused over by years of work and heartache. She worked yes, just like everyone else, but it was effortless. She never broke a sweat or had to take an extra break. She was something of mystic and magic, and I would always love her.

But there are 24 of us, and only one comes out. Hopefully it'll be her.

The chariots are ready and outfits are being readied. Stylists pull and stitch, making the garments perfect and ready for show. The stylists aren't personable, and don't introduce themselves, they only tell us short commands, as if we were animals.

The outfits are a little revealing for my taste, but isn't that what the capitol want's? The people want to see what they have to work with, and what they're betting on.

I know there are a few younger children in the competition and I hope they don't put such racy clothing on the tots.

My outfit at least covers what it needs to cover, a few wisps of grain in the right area. The stylist draped beads over my neck and arms and legs as well, which has nothing to do with 9, but it gives the outfit a little more spunk I suppose. They also painted my face and arms with orange and red body spray. The designs are intricate and make me look like a swaying piece of wheat in a summer sunset.

Adelittia looks gorgeous in her dress of wheat; actually it's not really a dress but two separate sections, one for the top and one for the bottom. The bottom piece goes all the way to the floor in the back but comes up to mid-thigh in the front. They spent quite a bit more time on her ensemble, as she has much more potential. The wheat in her dress is braided and intricately woven with strips of red and orange. Her top doesn't cover much, but a few necklaces make sure even the youngest viewers can watch. She's painted too, making us look like a match set. Her makeup is simple, but magnificent all the same.

I wish it wasn't like this. I wish I had longer to win her heart, and win her love. Because even though she's finally talking to me, it won't be long until she's trying to kill me.

**Eden Greenpetal**

**District 10**

As I stand here, dressed as little bo peep, I have to think where my life went awry. Was it when the rebellion started, when I was a little girl? Or was it when the rebellion ended and the Hunger Games came to be? Was I cursed the second they made this awful game? Or was it when I was reaped, and cursed to die?

I wish I knew, but all I know right now is that I look like a complete and utter fool.

My stylist, if you could call her that, decided that since I am on the younger side, 14, that she would dress me up as a lil'-herdin'-girl. She pried me into a white ruffled tutu styled dress, a pink plaid under shirt, and an over-sized bonnet. The whole outfit must have been covered in at least 50 feet of baby blue ribbon because very where I looked there was some kind of bow.

I was embarrassed, but lucky compared to Ramsey, who was dressed as a sheep.

Our stylist thought it was so clever to have a herder and a sheep together. It's safe to say we didn't.

I tugged at the ribbon on my back, trying to loosen the incredibly tight costume. I think she said she put a corset in the outfit, what little girl wears a corset? I gave up and sat down admiring the other districts' outfits.

**Ramsey Ewing**

**District 10**

Back home I herded the sheep all day long. The sheep were good though, and needed little herding, so I had time in-between to relax and work on building my strength and aim.

I wasn't a joke in the district, and I had many friends, but even if I do win and go back I don't think I'll have any friends or even acquaintances, solely because I wore this ridiculous costume.

I am dressed up as a sheep. A sheep. What on earth would possess someone to dress a 17 year old boy up as a sheep?

The stylist had asked me what I do on the farm back home; I told her that I work with the sheep, which, to me, seemed like a plenty normal answer. Not to her. She got all giddy and laughed, probably laughing at my oncoming doom.

So, now I get to embarrass myself on live television in front of the entire nation. And it doesn't help that the heavy wool costume is about five sizes too big. The stylist must have thought I was the size of a normal 17 year old boy, but I'm not.

True, I have quite a bit of muscle, but that only goes so far. My body is used to small amounts of food, as I've been malnourished all my life, and it shows on me. I don't have an ounce of fat on me, which I know will become a great disadvantage in the games when I desperately need some to keep death off my front door.

But, now isn't the time to worry about the games. Now is the time to try to not look like a complete idiot and to hold my head high. The stylist straightened the ears on my cotton hood and pushed me into the chariot, along with Eden.

"Good Luck!" she whispered.

I just scowled at her.

_No thanks to you._

**Caia Taro**

**District 11**

When I got to the capitol, they told me a lot of younger girls had been chosen this year; girls just like me would be competing against me. At the time this had almost made me sigh in relief, younger girls are easier to fight, right? I had seen older girls, 16, 17, and 18 fight and they fought like wild animals. Whipping out their weapons and killing everyone in sight. But then I realized that just because there wouldn't be as many older tributes didn't mean that there wouldn't be many. And those few would kill the younger ones fast, plucking them off like feathers from a crow.

I knew I needed to start making a few alliances, and I had a certain person in mind.

Her name was Cherry, and she was from district 5. She's thirteen, the same age as me, and though she doesn't look like much, she could be a major help in the arena.

I had already met her once, on the elevator, and she seemed nice enough. I plan on talking with her at the training center tomorrow; maybe I'll be able to get her to join an alliance.

But, those thoughts could be reserved for tomorrow; right now I should be focusing on the chariot ride, and my costume.

My stylist, a kind older lady with a thick accent, had dressed me in a purple tutu, decorated with bright orange and yellow flowers that accented my dark skin perfectly. My dark hair was pulled back into a twisted bun and a small hat with an artificial apple and orange sat on top. She applied a little makeup, but told me I was beautiful without it and rubbed most of it off. She gave me green striped tights and small brown shoes to wear, but of which only made my outfit that much better.

I asked for the stylists' name and she told me to call her DeDe. I nodded and thanked her before climbing into the chariot.

**Super short chapter, I know, but I just wanted to get another chapter up before spring break ends :'(**

**And who's your fav almost couple so far?**

**Sayer + Ariana **

**Calix + Adelittia?**

**Whoever wins gets a bit of a spill in the next chp!**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!** **R&R!**

**R&R R&R R&R R&R R&R R&R R&R R&R**


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